


Like a Dream Stuck on Repeat

by SilkyinaBottle



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast), The Adventure Zone: Amnesty - Fandom
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Angst, Gap Filler, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Finale, Slow Burn, Spoilers abound!!, Trans Duck Newton, Unresolved Sexual Tension, barclay/stern briefly mentioned but not enough for a tag, thank you justin mcelroy for my LIFE, the 'how did these two end up together' fic you were all waiting for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-10-27 23:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkyinaBottle/pseuds/SilkyinaBottle
Summary: "I would say the moment was... they realized the fight was over, kind of figured they should go their separate ways, and weren't really able to. And why? What did that mean?"Some time has passed since Duck’s destiny reached its natural conclusion, and he can't help but feel like something is missing.





	1. A Pick-and-Choose Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> so i spent all of amnesty unsure of who i shipped duck with, if anyone at all
> 
> and then it turns out justin was just _holding out on me_ the whole dang time
> 
> but seriously i haven't thought of anything else but these two for the last 24 hours. i am so indescribably happy that they're happy together. it's unreal. and since justin & griffin (understandably!) aren't gonna detail how this went down, i thought i'd throw my own interpretation out there and see if it could maybe make some other people happy.
> 
> (also pssssst: i know indrid doesn't actually run the general store now but i didn't realize that until i was halfway through writing that scene and i didn't wanna fix it so uhhhh... My Canon Now)

For Duck, the decision is instant. The portal to Sylvain doesn’t even come into the picture. He’s got a family on Earth, a cat to feed, bills to pay… His whole life was made there, in Kepler. It’s where he learned to walk, and ride a bike. It’s where he went to school. It’s where he smoked pot in empty parking lots past midnight. It’s where he had his first kiss. It’s where he met Minerva—hell, it’s where this whole destiny business _ started. _

Kepler is home. He couldn’t be anywhere else. Even as Aubrey and Thacker bid him goodbye and travel through the opposite portal to Sylvain, he’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

But as he takes his first steps towards the portal, he’s surprised to spot Minerva, out of the corner of his eye, mirroring his every movement. He pauses, looking at her left shoulder blankly, his thoughts buffering like a worn-out computer. “...Minerva,” he starts, and for a while, her name is the only word that comes, rolling naturally off of his tongue.

She waits politely for him to speak, and when he doesn’t, she cocks her head to one side and smiles. “Yes, Wayne Newton?” Her eyes are still bright, and Duck feels as if there’s something she’s just not getting. Or maybe there’s something she gets that he _ doesn’t. _

“...You know it’s over, right?”

She nods solemnly—no, proudly, smiling wider now than ever. “Yes. Our quest—your destiny! Our journey to bring peace to not just two entangled worlds, but the entire universe! All of it is complete. I am well aware of this.”

“Yeah, so…,” he’s not sure how to break this gently, “so you know you’re not, like… obligated. To look over me anymore. Right?”

“Duck Newton!” she cries, so taken aback that she forgets to use his proper name. “I am not by your side out of _ obligation, _ dear friend. I may have once saw you as my star pupil, my loyal—or, I suppose, not-so-loyal—apprentice, but now…,” her smile goes warm, “I see you as… well, just as I have said. A dear friend.”

That earns half a smile out of him, and instinctively he ducks his head down to cover it, tipping the brim of his hat down low. “Right. I get that. I just mean… you’ve gotta have your own stuff y’wanna do, don’cha?”

She considers this for a long moment, humming loud enough to echo throughout the empty, broken-down chamber they stand in. “I suppose so! But as it stands, I simply cannot imagine continuing my journey anywhere else but on Earth.” She meets his eyes, but not without caution. “Whether or not you are by my side is your decision, Wayne Newton. But I for one know I would feel much safer in a world with you as one of its many inhabitants.”

He clicks his tongue. “Yeah. I suppose that’s fair. You… you got me there, I guess.” He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well, fuck it, then. I guess you’re coming with me. For the time being,” he hastily adds, not wanting to make a promise he can’t keep.

He steps towards the portal to Kepler once more, and she follows, right by his side. Something like panic strikes him—a fear of change, a sense of ending—and he reaches for a blade he no longer has. His hand meets Minerva’s instead, and he holds it tight as they step out of the cold, metal room and back into the world they know.

The apartment feels empty without anyone in it.

Without Beacon and his constant quips, as obnoxious as he may have been. Without his muffled drawls coming out of cabinets Duck hastily stuffed him in, without arguments from opposite ends of the apartment. He was Duck’s first roommate, months before the others came into the picture. He says he doesn’t miss him, but he puts up a little placard in the closet next to his bedroom as a sort of memorial. _ “Rest well Beacon, chosen sword and general piece of shit.” _ No one will ever have to see it, after all. It’ll be Duck’s little secret.

Without Aubrey’s laughter and mirth, as temporary as her stay was. Without her spirit and _ life _in Duck’s home, without the constant ramblings of a kid who was still so excited about the world around her, not worn out by the weight of it like Duck was. Something about having her around made Duck feel hopeful again. Like she was restoring the life in him just as she did with their Sylvan friends.

Without Leo’s quick wit and steadiness, even if he never lived in Duck’s home at all. Without the sound of shuffling on the opposite side of the wall, reminding him that there was life outside of his apartment. Without that fatherly gleam in his eye, without that protective nature that Duck came to love him for. He’s happy where he is now, Duck knows it; he took pride in his purpose and Indrid gave him a new one, another chosen destiny as West Virginia’s resident seer. But with Mrs. Pearson as his only remaining neighbor, the apartment complex feels desolate.

Without Minerva. Without her overwhelming power and presence, even when doing something as simple as walking into a room. Without her delighted cry of, “Duck Newton!” as an everyday greeting. Without her guiding presence, her warmth, her caring, her heart. Without seeing her after he wakes up and before he goes to sleep. Without her as a constant, something in his life that he can count on. He knows she’s safe, knows Mama’s letting her stay in Amnesty Lodge until she can find her own place, but he feels strange not knowing what she’s up to. She kept him in the dark for years, and after finding out her deepest secrets, her fears, her hopes… it’s hard to mind his own business anymore.

But _ Christ, _ he’s had enough of that destiny bullshit for one lifetime, hasn’t he? He gave into it, he saved the world, he did what he set out to do. He’s dunzo. Having Minerva in his life would just be another tether to a story he’s no longer a part of. He doesn’t have to _ think _ about that anymore, so why should he _ require _himself to?

She’s not his responsibility, just as he isn’t hers. That’s the end of it.

Except it’s not. It never is—it never can be in a town as small as _ Kepler. _Duck can hardly avoid the unfortunate occasional encounter with Muffy and Winthrop on the street; there was no way he wasn’t gonna run into Minerva again.

He learns this the hard way when stocking up on groceries at the general store. The interior has hardly changed, but there’s a bit of flair to it now; a charm it didn’t have before, all due to the stalky, bespectacled man currently bagging up his items. Indrid has found himself at home here easily, and Duck’s gotta admit, he’s proud of the guy, even if they were never particularly close.

Indrid peers over the top of his glasses—these ones clear as water, showing off unnaturally warm brown eyes offset by deep crow’s feet—to look at Duck, a smile playing on his lips. “I take it you’re adjusting to ordinary life alright?”

Duck chuckles, leaning against the counter and nearly knocking over a candy display in the process. “Bud, ordinary life is what this body was made for.”

The bell above the door chimes, and Indrid raises his eyebrows as that ghost of a smile turns into a grin. “Well, some would beg to differ.”

Duck has only a half-second to wonder what that means before his ears are assaulted with a boisterous shout of, “WAYNE NEWTON!”

He turns his head and instantly catches sight of Minerva charging down the aisles towards him, followed by a bewildered Jake Coolice. Duck quickly fumbles with his wallet, taking out his money and shoving it into Indrid’s hands as quickly as he can manage, but still it does him no good. As soon as Minerva reaches him she sweeps him up in a bone-crushing hug, her arms squeezing around his waist and his face tucked against her neck. “H-hey…. ‘Nerva...,” he chokes out, hardly able to breathe in this state. It is both a greeting and a request to be put down.

She does not, and so he only half-registers words as Jake starts talking. “Sorry, Duck! You, uh. You know how she is.” He glances around, as if he’s not really sure what he’s supposed to do. “Uh, Minerva? You should maybe put him down? Because we’re in public and stuff?”

“Ah, yes!” she cries, dropping Duck as quickly as she’d lifted him. “I was simply so excited to see you, Wayne Newton, that I momentarily forgot your Earthen social cues. I apologize for this!” She glances briefly at Jake. “It is,” there’s a half pause, “my bad.”

Jake grins, wide and toothy. “I taught her that one.”

“Cool,” Duck wheezes, a little too busy trying to get air into his lungs to properly appreciate any of this. And to be honest, he doesn’t get what Minerva’s so jazzed about. Because—well, sure, he’s happy to see her and all, but aren’t they supposed to be done with this? Everything’s over, so… what’s the point, really? What happens next? What are they supposed to _ do? _

Something taps his shoulder, and he turns his head to see Indrid’s spindly arm holding out a pile of coins for him. “Hate to break up the happy reunion, but here’s your change.”

“Oh, uh,” Duck takes the change, quickly depositing it into his pocket, “cool. Thanks.” He retrieves his bag of groceries from the counter before turning towards Minerva and Jake again. “Look, as much as I’d lo—” he coughs, choking on the word, “_ love _to stay and chat, I was kind of already on my way out, so?” He starts to side-step out of their view. “See ya…?”

Jake looks a little apprehensive—clearly he’s getting the gist of the situation, glancing between Duck and Minerva a few times before averting his eyes entirely—but Minerva simply smiles, taking Duck’s attempt at escape in total stride. “Yes! See you soon, Duck Newton! Preferably in the near future!”

Something in his chest reacts to that, his heart kicking into overdrive at the promise of a meeting in the future, a meeting that shouldn’t happen, but he doesn’t have time to question it. There are already so many questions in the air, questions Duck would rather not answer at all, so he just gives Minerva a tight-lipped smile and a nod before turning on his heel and booking it out of the general store.

He swallows, feeling like he’s just made a promise he can’t keep.


	2. Strike True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone else: when justin said 'they tried to go their separate ways and couldn't,' it means they _said_ they were gonna go their separate ways, but then they just didn't and it's all happy domestic fluff!!
> 
> me, kicking this angst-ridden mess to the side: haha yeah,,,,,,
> 
> (but seriously thanks for all of the support right out the gate with this one, y'all! i've been super pumped to write it, so i really hope you guys enjoy! this one's also like double the length of last chapter, so..... you're welcome.)

“You’re telling me you saved the entire goddamn world, and you don’t even have the sword to show me?”

_ “Worlds, _Jane. Plural.” Duck pulls out two twin bottles of beer from the refrigerator and rejoins his sister in the living room, handing one over to her as he sits back down. “And I told ya, it—he?—got swallowed up in the blast when the whole computer system came crashin’ down.”

“So I’m just supposed to _ take your word _for it?” She fishes a bottle opener out of her pocket and makes quick work of the cap. Duck doesn’t blame her. After hearing about his destiny for the first time, he felt like he needed a drink, too.

“I mean…,” he holds his hand out expectantly, and Jane drops the bottle opener into his awaiting palm before taking a swig from her bottle, “I’ve got people? If that means anything? I’m friends with Bigfoot.”

She chokes on her drink.

“...Yeah, maybe shoulda waited on that one,” he mumbles, popping the lid off his own bottle as she recovers.

Finally, Jane manages to swallow what beer she didn’t spew all over the carpet, and she looks at Duck aghast. _ “Bigfoot? _Duck, what the hell?!”

He shrugs, the concept so mundane to him at this point that there’s little else he can do. “I mean, I can introduce you if you want!”

She scowls at him. “Don’t try to set me up with Bigfoot.”

“I wasn’t gonna! I mean, he’s a nice guy, and you know what they say about big feet—”

_ “Duck.” _

He raises his hands up in defense. “But he’s already got a guy. I ain’t trying to break up any happy couples, Jane.” Somehow he thinks Joseph would be a _ little _peeved if Barclay wound up on an undiscussed date with someone else. Even if Jane is objectively the best, and deserves a good man after her shitshow of a divorce a few years back.

“Yeah, I’d sure hope not.” She moves her beer bottle in a steady circle, looking contemplative as she watches the liquid swirl around its container. “So what about you, then?” she finally asks, looking at him from underneath her eyelashes.

He blinks. “...What _ about _me? Weren’t we just talkin’ about me?”

“Jesus, Duck, not about the world-saving bullshit—”

“It’s not bullshit!”

“I know, I know,” she sighs. “I’d be able to tell if you were lying t’me.” She rests her cheek against the palm of her hand, leaning against the arm of the loveseat she’s half-curled up in, and Duck can’t help but think about how small she looks. “What I was _ trying _t’ask is if you’re seeing anybody right now.”

“I—what?” He almost _ laughs, _ the question is so unexpected. “I was just telling you about how I got aboard an alien spacecraft, killed some weirdass _ clone _ of you, and saved the entire goddamn _ universe, _and you’d rather hear about my love life.” He takes a beat, clicking his tongue. “You know, now that I say all that out loud, I’m not actually all that surprised.”

“Yep.” She smiles knowingly. “It’s just like high school, when you were going on about Tony Pro Skater whatever and I just wanted to talk about boys.” She’s making fun of herself just as much as Duck, and he knows it.

“Now, you and I both know those games didn’t come out until I was outta college.”

She smirks. “Don’t dodge the question, Duck.” When he sips at his beer instead of answering, her tone shifts, going from playful to outright mocking. “C’monnnn, Wayne. Y’got any special lady in your life? Any fine-looking men caught your eye?”

He sets his beer to the side and starts to lift himself out of his seat. “You know what? I’m supposed to, uh… go… and… uhhhhhh…” He lingers there for a few seconds, half-risen out of his chair. “Go. Take. Testosterone. Yeah. I haven’t… taken my shot yet, and I was supposed t’do it. ...Today.”

“Duck, sit down.”

He collapses into his chair again, groaning in defeat. “I don’t know, Jane! There’s nothing to tell, really!”

She raises her eyebrows, stilling a little. “Huh. And here I thought, with the way you were dodging it, you had some big news for me.”

“Well, I don’t. So there.” And he really doesn’t! There’s no one ‘special’ in his life, not unless you count Minerva, but she’s. Well.

She’s special in a different way—not like that, not anything like _ that _ —in the destiny way, not anything like what Jane’s suggesting. God, she just told him to shut up about all the destiny crap anyway, so what’s he thinking of _ Minerva _for? He must just be stuck on that conversation or something.

...Besides, the two of them aren’t much of _ anything _now, are they?

He takes another sip from his beer; a long one, this time. “...So, how’re the kids doing?”

The days pass by in almost a blur, until one morning Duck finds a familiar Winnebago parked outside his apartment complex. He hardly has time to get dressed before he hears knocking at his door. He rushes over to open it, still struggling to get his shirt buttoned, and is greeted by Leo, sporting a fresh pair of red spectacles. “Hey there!” He walks right past Duck and into the apartment, like he owns the place—not that Duck minds, of course. “Long time no see, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, elbowing the door shut behind him. “What brings you by?”

Leo shrugs, glancing around the space, probably taking it in after having been away for months. “Just thought I’d drop in, see how you’re holding up. I was in the area again.”

“Cool, cool…” He steps forward, away from the entryway and back into the living room. “I’m _ good… _” He feels like this is a lead-in to something. “But hey, how’s the new job going?”

“Oh, it’s good stuff.” He finally catches sight of Mitzi sleeping on the back of the couch and makes a beeline for her, scratching the cat behind her ears and smiling when she stretches and rolls over. He always was an animal person, Duck thinks. “Y’ever been to Huntington, Duck?”

Duck furrows his brow, thinking on it. “Maybe? I think so? I don’t remember.”

“Great place. A lotta people over there in need of some foresight.” He takes a seat on Duck’s couch, resting his head not too far from Mitzi’s sleeping form. “Honestly, I don’t get why Indrid kept himself tied down in a trailer park year-round. Y’got _ wheels, _might as well use ‘em!”

“I bet he had his reasons,” Duck tells him, making himself comfortable in the loveseat nearby.

“Of course! I’m just appreciating the freedom of it, y’know?”

Duck nods. After all those years of being tied down by destiny, it’s… nice to have the freedom to choose. For Duck, at least. Leo doesn’t seem to take much issue with the destiny stuff at all. He seemed to embrace it, if anything—must be why he’s so happy now.

“So… Duck,” Leo starts, taking Duck’s moment of pause as permission to change the subject. “I know I said I was just dropping by, but…,” oh goddammit, Duck thinks, “I did have something I needed to talk to you about.”

Duck sinks back in his seat, hoping the chair will somehow open up and eat him alive right here, right now. Wouldn’t be the strangest thing that’s ever happened to him. “...Yeah?”

“So Minerva checked in with me the other day.“ Yep, there it is. “She’s starting to think you’ve been avoiding her?”

Duck crosses his arms over his chest, stubbornly looking anywhere but Leo’s face. “So what’d she have to send you for? She can just spectral pop in whenever she wants, right?”

“Well, first of all, she didn’t _ send _me,” Leo explains, his voice taking on that disappointed parent tone that only makes Duck feel shittier. “I came here on my own time, because I was worried about the two of you. Second, I asked her that too, and she didn’t seem t’wanna answer. So maybe that’s something you should go ask her yourself.”

Duck groans, dragging a hand across his face. “Well _ now _I just think she’s trying to get me to come to her.”

Leo gives a casual shrug. “Maybe you should.”

“I just don’t _ get it, _ Leo.” He’s on his feet now, and they’re carrying him back and forth across the living room, pacing in circles. “Like. I did the whole destiny thing. What else is there? Am I just supposed to… to keep playing along? Like, what’s supposed to _ happen, _Leo? What’s she expecting? Some grand adventure number two? Like, I already did the one!”

“Woah, woah, Duck!” Leo’s hands meet his shoulders, bringing him to a gentle halt. “It ain’t nothing like that. She just wants t’keep being friends. You can manage that, can’t you?”

Friends. Right. ...They are friends, aren’t they? Of course they are. He wants to be friends with Minerva, so why the hell is this bothering him so much? “...Yeah. I can,” he agrees, staring down at the carpeting rather than let Leo’s pleading expression guilt him any further.

There’s a second knock at Duck’s door, and he pauses, turning towards the sound. After a moment, he slowly looks back at Leo, who smiles sheepishly. “Did I forget to mention I invited Sarah over?”

So Duck becomes the visitor now, making the trek up to Amnesty Lodge the very next morning, as per Leo’s request. He knows he’d get shit if he put it off any longer. Leo would probably know somehow, too—he’s really been honing those visions of his. So procrastinating won’t do him any good, he tells himself as he strolls in through the front door.

The lodge is quiet when he walks in. There’s the quiet crackling of the fireplace, and Duck can make out some shuffling from the kitchen, but other than that the lobby is perfectly still. He almost turns around and heads home right then and there, not wanting to disrupt the tranquility of it all. But, well… he’s already come all this way. It’d be a waste of effort otherwise.

So he makes his way to the front desk, glancing all around in case he catches sight of someone along the way. It takes him about a full minute to get there with the way he dawdles (and honestly, he’s glad no one walked in on him moving at a snail’s pace through the lobby, because he’s not sure how he would’ve explained that). Once his hands are within reach of the smooth mahogany countertop, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

And then he hesitates for thirty more seconds before tapping the silver bell sitting on the edge of the desk.

“Just a minute!” comes a voice from deeper within the lodge—a voice Duck would know anywhere. Mama emerges from the left side guest wing, pulling her thick, curly hair up into a ponytail with practiced motion. “Hey, welcome in, what can I do—” Her eyes finally register Duck, halfway through her greeting, and she comes to a halt before she can even reach the desk. “Well, hey there, Duck,” she says, her face stuck in a half-bewildered, lopsided smile.

“Hey, Mama,” he says with a sigh, resigning himself to his fate.

She doesn’t bother to get behind the desk now, knowing he won’t be helping himself to a room. “Haven’t seen you in weeks. Whatcha been up to?”

“Oh, you know.” He pauses, the silence stagnant. “Forestry… business.”

She blatantly holds back a chuckle. “Well, yeah, I figured. That’s kinda your thing there, Duck.”

“Look,” he blurts out, wanting this unbearable awkwardness to be over with as soon as possible (even if he’s the only one who seems to find it awkward), “I, uh… I got a reason t’be here.”

She leans against the counter, grinning a little. “Do ya?”

“I do!” he confirms, maybe a little louder than he should have. He clears his throat and starts again. “...Is Minerva around?”

She blinks, and then in a second her expression changes, something smug taking over her features. “Alright, I see how it is.” She steps forward and pats him on the shoulder; a show of encouragement. “Room 17,” she tells him. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, y’hear?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but she’s already slipped right past him and disappeared into the kitchen. He can still perfectly recall her expression, smiling as if she was keeping a secret from him.

_ What the fuck? _

He tries to put it out of his mind as he enters the right side guest wing and ascends the stairs This where Minerva’s room should be, if his memory serves him correctly. Which it might not. But maybe that would be a little helpful right now! Would give him a few more minutes to think before having to deal with any of this—

Duck comes to a screeching halt at the top of the stairs. Room 17 is positioned exactly to his left. He lets out a noise of defeat—half-sigh, half-groan—before raising his fist to knock on the door.

“You may enter!” cries a loud, booming, almost presentational voice. It’s a voice Duck has heard a million times before, in his head, in the flesh, in his dreams, but he still needs a moment to ready himself before turning the doorknob and poking his head in.

Minerva turns to look at him with an ease he’s rarely ever seen before. There’s nothing ceremonial or practiced about her actions, as they so often seem to be. Instead she’s just… standing there. In the middle of the room, dressed in a tank top and some printed shorts. He can see the definition of her muscles—perhaps more than he’s ever been able to, what with her arms and legs fully exposed—and her rune-like tattoos, trailing from the top of her head all the way down to her shoulders. Her eyes—cyan, the brightest blue Duck’s ever seen—land on him at last, and she _ smiles. _

For a moment, Duck can’t help but think, _ God, I missed this. _

And then her voice brings him crashing back into reality. “Wayne Newton! I see you’ve finally decided to pay me a visit!”

“Uh, yeah!” He steps into the room, a little reluctantly, not quite shutting the door behind him. “Yeah. I mean… I heard you wanted me to, so.” He shrugs. “Here I am.”

“Yes.” She’s beaming. “So you are.” And then she’s springing to action, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him over to sit at the edge of the bed. “Tell me, Wayne Newton: how have you fared since the end of our journey?” She sits herself next to him, back straight, head raised in attention, waiting for an answer he doesn’t know how to give.

“...Pretty good.” Is that even true? It didn’t come out sounding like a lie, so it must be. “I mean, you know. It’s been _ normal.” _

“I see.” She nods, and if she’s anything less than completely enthralled, she sure has Duck fooled. “Do you enjoy this normalcy, then?”

That’s… a weird question to be asked. A pretty loaded question, if he’s being honest. “I guess?”

She leans back, like the impact of the statement is physical, somehow. “You _ guess? _Have confidence, Wayne Newton! Is not your ordinary life what you desired above all else?”

“Fuck, Minerva, I don’t know!” He doesn’t mean for it to come out so angry, he really doesn’t, but he’s only a minute into this and she’s already too much to handle. “I mean, yeah, that’s what I thought, but now it’s—it’s _ not _ normal, Minerva. You know what was normal? Having Aubrey around. And Dani, and Thacker—god, remember when Leo was just my neighbor who ran a grocery store? That was fucking normal, Minerva! Normal was when I could get through my shift without something talking about the _ living storm _that made its way through the town that one time! Normal was when all of my friends were still alive!”

It’s only now that he notices his breath coming out shallow, that he realizes he’s starting to sweat, that he sees Minerva looking over at him in concern. He closes his eyes and pulls himself back together—breathe in for seven, hold for four, breathe out for seven more. “I don’t _ get _normal back, Minerva.”

There’s a beat before she speaks. She’s staring at the floor, looking pensive, blue brows furrowed. “I apologize, Duck Newton. I did not mean to strike a nerve.”

“It’s fine,” he tells her, wrapping his arms around himself.

“It is _ not _fine,” she insists, her hand suddenly resting on top of his knee. “I wish to fix the wrong that I have done. Not just in striking a nerve, but in contributing to your loss. I have been through what you are experiencing before, Duck Newton; all of it and more. Not only do I understand the pain you are experiencing, but I believe I can be of assistance. Please, tell me how I may help.”

There’s something in her eyes—a sort of pleading, almost desperation, an eagerness that Duck has seen so rarely before—that goes right to his gut. Something that makes him realize right then, right there, exactly what his problem is, with crushing clarity.

He isn’t the one tethered to his own story. _ Minerva _ is tethered to _ his. _

And he doesn’t want that for her. Not at all.

Duck rises from the bed, Minerva’s hand dropping from his knee and onto the sheets, without a fight. “I… we can’t do this.”

She rises just a moment after, with perfect predictability. Of course she’s still pushing, why would she not, she came to _ Earth _for him, for fuck’s sake. “But we must! If you are restraining your emotions, it shall cause you nothing but distress—”

“Jesus, Minnie, this isn’t about me!” That’s enough to shut her up, just for a bit, just long enough to say what he needs to say. “You don’t… you shouldn’t have to do this. You shouldn’t be doing any of it. You should be out there learning new things, giving yourself a break, getting used to this whole Earth life thing. You shouldn’t be wasting all your time worrying about what I’m doing.”

Somehow, she looks tenser than before. “I am not _ wasting my time, _ Wayne Newton.”

“Really? Because it sure looks like it.” And maybe that was a little harsh, maybe it was a little out of line, but it slipped out of Duck’s mouth before he could have a say in it.

“I have not wasted a single _ second _ of my time since the moment I stepped foot onto this planet!” she cries, and the sheer force of her emotive energy is enough to make Duck take a step back. “Since the very day you took your first steps towards that archway! Not a single moment of my time since then has been useless, because every second of every day was a moment I was closer to you.” Her voice has died down by the end, going from a roaring thunder to a soft rumble. “None of that could _ possibly _be considered a waste of time.” 

There’s a silence that hangs in the air for a few long moments as her shoulders deflate, as the weight of her words stands still between them like a sturdy brick wall.

“Well, none of it matters anymore,” Duck tells her, and it may just be the hardest thing he’s ever said. “I mean, don’t you _ get it, _ Minerva? It’s over. My destiny, the adventure, all those hundreds of thousands of interstellar wars—all of them are done. I don’t have to fight anymore, and you certainly don’t have to spend any more time hanging around me. You _ shouldn’t _spend any more time hanging around me.”

She grits her teeth. “I disagree.”

“Then disagree all you fucking want! I don’t care!” Now he’s the one yelling, and he didn’t mean for things to get like this, but she’s always so fucking _ stubborn. _ “Look, I’m leaving,” he says, turning on his heel and heading back towards the door, “and one day, you’ll be glad I did!”

“A familiar strategy, Duck Newton!” Her tone is lilting, painfully pleasant, in a way Duck has never heard her speak before. “Running once again! Was all of your talk of friendship and trust simply a lie? Or were you merely placating me until your destiny was completed? Perhaps pushing others away is simply in your nature!”

Duck stills, his hand catching the doorknob in a white-knuckled grip. “You know what? I think we’re done here. And I really do mean _ done.” _

There’s one last pause; a pause long enough for Duck to give in and glance over his shoulder at her. She looks… defeated, her eyes downcast and her face barely moving as she replies, “Perhaps we are.” But he can see her hands at her sides, forming fists by her hips, and that’s all the justification he needs to walk out, slamming the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to end off this chapter saying i tried to be REALLY careful with the argument to make sure i didn't fuck up with the power dynamics or anything. i think i did pretty good on that front, especially since i didn't want either of them to be entirely innocent by the end of it, but feel free to let me know if there's anything i could really stand to change!!
> 
> EDIT: i've gotten some great feedback and been reassured that it's all good!! as a quick aside (since it seems there was some confusion), the canon power dynamics aren't concerning to me at all, i just wanted to make sure i was accurately reflecting that canon and not fucking it up, lmao


	3. Now We're Only Falling Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now this chapter was ORIGINALLY supposed to be three scenes but it was already long enough and i liked how it ended w/o the third one so sorry if the pacing's weird lmao. the last chapter will take a little longer because of the additional scene added onto it but i hope it'll be worth the wait!!

Duck is still fuming by the time he arrives at work the next day. This would be all well and good if he were actually scheduled to be out in the forest—a long walk sounds like just what he needs to let off some steam—but instead he’s cooped up in the Forest Service station all day, which means _ interacting _ with other people. Without snapping at them, preferably. Fortunately, most of Duck’s co-workers have known him long enough to tell when he’s in one of his moods and know to stay far, far away.

_ Unfortunately,  _ one of his co-workers has known him long enough to involve herself in those moods however damn well she pleases. He’s on his lunch break when Juno pulls up a chair across from him and sits down. “So, Duck,” she says, in that voice she always uses when she  _ knows  _ something is up. “How are things?”

He sighs, setting his sandwich (peanut butter, made in the ten minutes before he left the house) aside. “Juno, don’t do this.”

“Well, somebody’s gotta do it, or you’re just gonna spend the rest of the day stewing in whatever it is you’re stewing in.” Well, he can’t deny that, and it must show on his face, because Juno rests a hand over his and says softly, “So talk to me, Duck.”

He hesitates for a second, hoping she’ll spontaneously give up and walk away, but he already knows there’s no chance of that. “I had a fight with Minerva yesterday.” Juno has met Minerva, two or three times at this point, and she’s heard plenty about her, besides. Even while Duck was avoiding her, before this whole big blow-up, it was hard not to bring her up from time to time. “Leo talked me into visiting her, and… god, I really shoulda just stayed home instead.”

“Alright.” It comes out as a sigh, like she’s resigned to dealing with this. She pulls back from him, resting her hands on top of the table instead. “Give me the rundown. What happened?”

“I went to see her,” Duck starts. “At the lodge. And it was going okay at first, but then I…” He bites his lip, thinking of a way to word this. “...I don’t want her stuck with me, Juno. I mean, she spent all this time hyping me up for my big chosen destiny or whatever… she deserves her own time now. And whenever I’m there, she just ends up focusing on me instead and… and I can’t just  _ let  _ her do that, right?”

Juno hums. “And this is what you got into a fight about?”

He sinks back in his chair, arms crossed defensively. “...Yeah. I mean, more or less. I didn’t want her focusin’ on me, she didn’t wanna leave me alone,” he can feel himself tense, “...she accused me of running away again… the whole nine yards.”

“Right,” Juno clasps her hands together, “now, let me ask: did you explain all of this to her? Or didja just tell her to stop worrying about you and walk out?”

There’s a beat of silence. Duck only grows tenser. “Fuck,” he mumbles. He doesn’t look at her face, knowing exactly what he’ll find there.

“I think I might know you a little too well there, Duck. Y’gotta  _ tell  _ people why it is you’re doing things. Otherwise they make up their own reasons. And usually? They ain’t good ones.”

His hands are on his face now, wiping away the sweat that’s started to settle on his brow. “I just… I don’t even have a justification for this. God, I’m so  _ stupid.” _

“Only a little,” she reassures him.

“I guess I just thought… that’s what was best for her? I don’t know. I just don’t want her to wake up one day and realize, like… she coulda been spending all of this time travelling the world, or learning all about our Earthly culture—or heck, even finding a way t’get her home back—and instead she’s just hanging around some doofus like me.”

Juno’s leaned forward now, resting her elbows on the table between them. She listens intently, and when Duck’s finished, she closes her eyes and takes a moment to process before speaking. “...Well, Duck. I think that’s her decision to make.”

He nods, but says nothing. That seems so  _ obvious  _ to him now; he’s embarrassed she even had to point it out.

“You might think you know what’s best for her,” Juno continues, “but the only one who can really figure that out is her. So, sure, y’can give her some room to explore that… but if what she wants is you, then you don’t have to push away.”

“I wanted to stay,” he admits. It’s not something he’s thought about up until now—he was too angry to think about much at all—but as soon as he says it he knows it’s true. “As soon as I left, all I fucking wanted was to go back. Like… it sounds pathetic, right? Here I am throwing a huge fit over everything, acting like I hate her, just because… I mean, it’s easier. I won’t have to miss her if I’m mad. I can just move on.”

Another hum escapes Juno. Her eyes are boring holes straight through him. “Would you really, though? Or would you jus’ sit around and mope?”

He doesn’t wanna answer that. But Juno isn’t saying anything else. “...Probably the latter.” He tilts his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “I mean… I’ve spent all this time with her, it’s like… I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like t’be without. Now I’m trying it… and if I’m being honest?” And they both know he can’t be anything but, “It kind of sucks.”

“That’s what I figured.” She gets to her feet, her chair creaking beneath her as her weight shifts off of it. She stares down at him with intensity, hands resting on the edge of the table. “Look. At least try to kiss and make up, okay? For her sake. And your own sake, too.”

That’s kind of a weird way of wording things, he thinks, but he doesn’t comment on it. It’d probably just look like him dodging the subject. “...Yeah. I will. Thanks, Juno.”

Her expression lightens, her face breaking out into a smile as she leans off of the table. “No problem, Duck. What’re friends for?” She starts to make her way back the table, back towards the door out of the break room, and Duck assumes that’s the end of it. He’s got his sandwich halfway to his mouth again when she stops short. “But I gotta say…”

He pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“In all my years in this forest, I ain’t ever seen so much pine.”

Duck raises an eyebrow. Okay, once again, weird. “...What’s that supposed t’mean?”

Juno blinks at him, bewildered for just a moment. And then she  _ laughs.  _ First a snicker, then a chuckle, then a guffaw, and soon she’s leaning against the doorframe to keep herself upright, and Duck has no idea what’s so fucking  _ funny.  _ “God, I really shouldn’t have expected anything less of you. You’re still that same clueless guy I grew up with.”

“Alright, yuk it up!” he barks, setting his sandwich down once again. “But at least let me in on the damn joke, won’t ya?”

“Duck.” She says his name like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “Duck, Duck, Duck, Duck,  _ Duck. _ ” She’s back at his table now, leaning down to look at him, grinning the whole time. Something about her attitude conjures up an image of Mama, in the lodge’s lobby, patting his shoulder and smirking. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe your feelings for Minerva are… I don’t know… a little more than friendly?”

He stares at her. Sets his jaw. Takes a moment to process the words that have just been said to him.

_ What the fuck? _

Duck opens her mouth to tell her that’s ridiculous, because of course it is, but instead—”What?” He sounds like a deflating balloon, his voice is so small. “...No. No! We’re just… we’re  _ friends,  _ Juno. You know how people are friends? Like normal people—o-or alien people, I guess, sometimes… definitely this time! But they’re friends, right?” His voice cracks on the last word, as if he doesn’t quite believe it himself. “Because… th-that’s what we are… me and Minnie. Jus’ friends, no… nothing else goin’ on there. On either end!”

His first thought:  _ Shit, I’m bad at lying. _

His second:  _ Oh my god, I’m lying. _

And then, finally:  _ I’m in LOVE WITH HER. _

Juno doesn’t seem convinced; and why would she be, really? She’s still standing there grinning at him, now more than ever. “Uh-huh.” She sounds totally nonchalant, as if Duck isn’t sitting right next to her, melting from the inside. “Well, I’ll let you ruminate on that,” she decides, and then she’s out of the room before Duck can process it, before he can say anything to get her to stay, to get her to explain how she knew and he  _ didn’t. _

But it… it makes perfect sense. He never thought—but now that he knows, he can’t think of anything else. Minerva’s smile, her laughter, the way she lights up a room, the blue of her eyes, the curve of her arms, the way she says his  _ fucking name… _

Her frown. Her raised voice. Her stubbornness, endearing as it is frustrating. That blank look in her eyes, like she’s so  _ tired  _ after eons of fighting. Her hands, at fists by her sides.

The peanut butter sandwich lies there, uneaten, and it stays that way until the end of his shift.

The apartment is quiet when he gets home, and it stays that way all evening. Still no Beacon talking shit, still no Aubrey knocking things over and apologizing every time, still no Leo on the other side of the wall, still no Minerva.

It’s astounding, how quickly he’s gone from having everything to nothing at all.

He gets ready for bed slowly, pulling on his pajamas and spending about six minutes brushing his teeth, just because he couldn’t stop staring in the mirror and wondering how the fuck he let things go this wrong. But at least his teeth are really clean now, so that’s one thing.

It’s past ten o’clock when he finally heads into his bedroom. He’s relieved to find Mitzi already fast asleep at the foot of his bed, purring lightly. He could really use some feline affection right now. He’s about halfway through carefully dragging her to the top of the bed when a faint blue light illuminates his surroundings, making him blink hard as he adjusts to the sudden brightness.

“Duck Newton,” someone says softly. Duck’s heart leaps to his throat.

He turns slowly, and there’s Minerva; disembodied and ephemeral. She is as he first saw him, just a blue silhouette with vague suggestion of a face—other than her eyes, which are made of piercing white light. It’s almost jarring to see her this way, after getting so used to her physical form. He can perfectly picture the swirling tattoos mapping across her skin; can see the outline of the pajamas she’s wearing, rather than the long, regal dress he had imagined her wearing for so long.

“Uh,” it takes him a while to get any real words out, he’s so busy trying not to check out the fucking  _ hologram  _ in front of him, “hey, Minerva.”

Her arms disappear into her sides, and Duck pictures her hands clasping together nervously. “Yes. Hello.” Her voice is stiff, quiet, and uncharacteristic. He’s not sure he likes it. After a moment, her spectral head raises. “I would like to issue you an apology, Duck Newton.” He realizes now that she’s calling him Duck again, which is weird, he was just getting used to Wayne—

He shakes his head. There’s nothing to  _ get  _ used to, now. “Uh, yeah. Me… me too. That was…” He bites his lip. “We left off on a bad note yesterday, huh?” And he’d sure like to fix it, somehow.

“We did,” she agrees. “My previous comments were out of line. I should not have implied that you were treating our relationship as you previously did your destiny. Now that our adventure is over, you should have the freedom to choose what it is you want to do with your future. And I wish you the best in that.”

He makes a fist in his bedsheets, feeling cold. “What do you mean?”

Minerva’s arms go back to her sides again, the movement hypnotic. He can see the shape of her muscles even in this state, and god, he didn’t think that’s what he was into, but today’s just full of surprises. “I mean to say… you may have a point. Perhaps it is best we go our separate ways.”

Duck holds his breath.

There are a million things he could say right now—a million things he  _ wants  _ to say—and none of them involve agreeing to this. He wants her right here, right now, in a way he hasn’t wanted anyone in years. He wants to throw himself into her arms and apologize a million times over, wants to tell her how stupid he was for taking all of this for granted. He wants to take back every word he said yesterday and replace them with two hundred kisses across her lips. It’s the mushiest Duck has felt in years, and it’s  _ terrifying. _

But as he looks at her, he realizes there’s nothing he can do. All that stares back at him is a Minerva-shaped bundle of light. She’s not actually here. He spent all this time keeping her at arm’s length, and now that he’s finally realized his mistake… here they are, their positions reversed.

At this point… after fucking up with someone so bad that you break their fighting spirit, what they were always known for, and make them pull away instead of pushing forward… How, at that point, do you tell someone you don’t know where their life ends and yours begins? How do you do that when you’ve already severed the link?

How can he tell her he loves her  _ now?  _ He can’t. There’s no way.

“I’m sorry,” is all he says, choking on it. “I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry for all of it, Minerva, fuck.”

“There is no need,” she tells him, and maybe it’s just a trick of the light, but he swears he can see a hint of a pained smile on her spectral face. “You deserve happiness, Wayne Newton. I apologize for keeping it from you all this time.”

He opens his mouth to say something, anything that will get her to stay. He reaches a hand out to touch her, even though he knows he can’t. He feels his heart pick up pace once more, readying him for the trouble he knows he’s about to cause—

And then she’s gone.

Duck stands there for a moment, his outstretched hand slowly curling back into a fist, and then he takes off running. He throws open the door to his bedroom, rushes through his apartment, heads out into the cold night air, and is halfway down the stairs before he slows to a halt, his mind finally catching up with him.

He takes note of the scene. He’s still in his pajamas. It’s ten o’clock at night. He has work in the morning.

He sighs, reaching a hand up and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “What the fuck am I doing…?” he asks himself, just barely audible over the quiet nighttime ambiance.

He spends at least a full minute standing there, letting the breeze roll past him, before dragging himself back up the stairs. He steps inside his apartment again and takes one brief look behind him before slowly letting the door swing shut.


	4. Brave as a Noun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this story was supposed to be 4 chapters but then this PAIN SCENE GOT OUTTA HAND AND BECAME ITS OWN CHAPTER
> 
> here you go, enjoy the hurt. the conclusion is still to come.

It’s a sunny Tuesday morning, and Duck drives with a bouquet of flowers in his passenger’s seat. Gladiolus, white chrysthanthemums, and hydrangeas. The soft, sweet scent of them nearby carries him on as he makes his way down familiar roads, past City Hall, past Whistle’s Auto...

Spring is just now making its way to Kepler—the ground, which was not long ago covered in blankets of snow, is finally giving way to some green again. It fills Duck with warmth, but not nearly enough. As much as the resurgence of nature brings him joy, it can’t fix his problems. Not on its own, at least.

He breathes deeply as he nears his destination, taking in the familiar, yet bittersweet sight. The last time he was here, the end of the world was on the edge of the horizon. And he won’t say he was happier then, but he felt… fuller, somehow.

He parks his car in the guest lot and retrieves the bouquet from beside him before stepping out and onto the soft dirt road. He tucks the flowers under one arm, locks the car door, and makes his way towards the entrance. He can’t help but feel on edge—he knows he’s moving towards the door, but it feels almost automatic. Maybe it’s sense memory. Maybe he’s reliving the past. Maybe it’s the stress the last few months have put him through. Maybe it’s a little bit of all of it.

Still, he reaches the front door—ignoring the sign reading, ‘CLOSED IN REMEMBRANCE,’ since he knows it’s unlocked—and opens it, resisting the urge to flinch as he hears a bell chime above his head.

From the front desk, a friendly, but tired, smile greets him, and Duck nods his head as he walks in. “...Hey, Kirby.”

“Morning, Duck.” He’s young, much younger than Duck, but he looks so much _ older _than the last time he saw him. No longer does he give off the impression of some kid doing whatever the hell he pleases. There’s no mistaking him for anything but a grown adult. His eyes drift to the bouquet Duck’s holding, and he slowly rises from his desk chair (not usually there; he must have placed it just for the day). “You’re not the first one to show up. It’s out back, let me show you.”

Duck nods again, this time without speaking, as Kirby leads the way through the Cryptonomica. Past exhibits old and new—including several Duck has never seen before. He assumes Kirby added them in himself. He must have, because who else was there to do it?

He leads Duck not to the Inner Sanctum, but towards a different door, one that leads to a small, unassuming yard behind the Cryptonomica. It was in poor condition in years past, and as Kirby opens the door, Duck sees it’s faring a little better now. No longer is the grass patchy and dying, and the mess of leaves and twigs once scattered about has been cleared away. But that’s hardly its most noteworthy feature.

Flowers, of all shapes, sizes and colors. Ribbons in deep reds and gentle whites. Signs and letters, professing admiration, respect, and undying appreciation. All surrounding a framed picture of a bearded man in an ill-fitting suit, holding a candelabra and laughing.

Duck remembers the day the picture was taken. It was the day of the first airing of Saturday Night Dead. They’d been setting up the Cryptonomica for filming, and Aubrey said something funny, something Duck had laughed at, at the time, but can’t remember now—

He walks forward, placing his bouquet with the others, front and center. He’s shocked there are so many. Not because there was any shortage of people who cared—he just thought he’d gotten here early. But he doesn’t care if his offering is leaning right up against the picture or sitting twenty feet away from it. As long as it’s here, that’s what matters. In any case, he’s standing close enough now to read the placard at the bottom of the frame.

_ In memory of Ned “Brave” Chicane. _

It’s been one year since everything fell apart, and Duck hasn’t been on steady ground since. At this rate, he’s not sure he ever will be.

“...I’ll give you some time,” Kirby says, and Duck doesn’t look back before he hears the door shut behind him.

Duck doesn’t speak. Maybe that’s why Kirby left, because he thought Duck wanted to talk to his old friend, but that seems like a weird thing to do, especially when anyone could show up at any moment. Still, he’s glad to have this time to reminisce. To get his thoughts in order.

Duck’s memory isn’t the greatest—he’s getting up there in years, after all—but every detail of that day sticks in his head. All of it was just so _ important, _how was he ever supposed to forget any of it?

He’d heard the news from Janelle, actually. He found her and Aubrey in the sheriff’s department, an hour and a half after the mountaintop had crash-landed on Kepler’s surface. Aubrey was crying into the older woman’s shoulder, her eyeliner streaked and her skin blotchy and lifeless. She was in shock, Duck could tell, and in no state to explain the situation, so Janelle was forced to stumble through it.

It was not… the ideal way to find out. But then again, what was?

It wasn’t the worst day of his life, though. It sounds awful, when he thinks about it, but good things had happened that day, too. The day Ned left his life, Minerva entered it. And while that didn’t lessen the pain, didn’t make the grief go away any quicker, he had been… happy to see her that day. And that’s not something he can deny.

He thinks it was strange for her, to be brought into a group full of mourners for a man she did not know. He remembers her offering him condolences, and while they should have been empty, they didn’t feel that way. Because Minerva had lost too. She had lost more than Duck, or Aubrey, or any person on earth could have even imagined. Of course she knew what it was like to have a friend taken away. She’d had every friend, family member, acquaintance, and enemy snuffed out by her own wrongdoings.

...Ned would have liked her. Would have laughed as she tried to figure out earth customs, would have encouraged her bombastic and headstrong behavior, even if it was for his own benefit. Would have taught her jokes and tried to rope her into his schemes, not because he actually needed her help, but because he wanted to see if she’d catch on.

And he would have caught onto Duck’s feelings instantly. Aubrey wasn’t the type to notice those things, too caught up in her own love life, and Thacker didn’t know him well enough, but Ned… They had been friends for years, and he was plenty good at getting reads on people. He would have sussed out the way Duck felt the moment Minerva stepped into the room.

He would have told Duck to go for it, too. Sure, Ned believed himself to be a coward through and through, with his flight more honed than his fight… but when it really came down to it, he knew when to take action. He would have poked and prodded Duck to no end, telling him to, ‘Live your life to the fullest! Hey, what have you got to lose?’ He’d made plenty of crazy decisions in his life, so surely Duck could make just one.

He thinks Ned would have liked to see that. That he would have enjoyed seeing Duck step out of his comfort zone and do something totally wild for once.

He sighs, his eyes lingering on the man in the picture, his smile, his spirit. “...Yeah. Yeah.” He said he wouldn’t talk to the picture, that it was weird, but the words come out of his mouth without thought. “That is what you’d want me to do, isn’t it, you sick bastard?”

He turns on his heel and makes his way back towards the door, mind made up. He’s opening it and just starting to make his way in, planning on marching all the way to his car and driving straight to Amnesty Lodge, but something makes him stop.

The bell sounds above the door to the Cryptonomica once more, and a familiar face steps in. Unwashed red hair, tired eyes, a smattering of freckles, and slumped shoulders. She’s cradling the largest bouquet Duck has ever seen in his life. Hyacinth, white poppies, orchids, and lillies. Duck knows enough about flower language to get the idea: sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. It’s to be expected, because no one has more cause to be sorry today than Pigeon Wilson.

She catches his eye—probably on accident—and takes a step back, steadying herself against the doorframe. “...Duck, I—” She goes silent, seemingly swallowing any words she had.

“...Holy shit, Pigeon.” Maybe not the best way to greet her after all this time, and on today, of all days. “How… how the fuck have you been? I thought you were in the slammer.” He needs to stop talking _ immediately. _

Pigeon averts her eyes immediately, the grip on her bouquet tightening. It’s not long before Kirby speaks up, stepping out from behind the counter again. “She was only in for a couple of months,” he explains. “Considering what happened…,” he glances back at her, “there were a lot of details that were ‘uncertain’.” He puts the words in air quotes. Duck knows what he means. “It was hard to give her much of an… extended sentence.”

Duck nods, glancing between the two of them. “Is there, uh… any reason you know all of this?” He stands up straight, holding his hands out in front of him. “I mean, not that it’s any of my business! I was just… wondering, I guess.”

Kirby and Pigeon share a long look, and soon Pigeon takes a deep breath and steps forward. “I…” Her hands are shaking where they hold the bouquet, as if she’s scared of something—rejection? “I’m starting at the Cryptonomica. Next week.”

He blinks, taking a few moments to process this. “Starting? You mean… like, working. Working _ here. _” He doesn’t say it, of course, not with Kirby around, but this place is kind of a shitshow. Always has been. And no, it doesn’t matter that he’s thinking that today. Ned would have agreed, or at the very least, laughed at him saying it.

Pigeon shrugs, still not quite looking him in the eye. “I… can’t really go back to my old job,” she explains. “They basically let me go as soon as they heard the news. But here…,” she glances up at the ceiling, eyes glassy, “at least I can feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. Like I’m making myself better.” _ Like I’m doing something that would have made him happy. _She doesn’t say it, but Duck can hear it in her words.

And he smiles, feeling lighter than he has all day. “Well, good on ya, Pigeon. I think he’d be real proud of you.”

Her eyes meet his just for a moment, shock reading clearly on her face, and then she ducks her head down, bringing the flowers close to her chest. “Um… thanks.” There’s a waver to her voice, one Duck recognizes, and he steps to the side so she can move past. And she does, mumbling an explanation as she heads towards the back door. “I’m gonna… g-go put these out there. I’ll see ya.”

Duck turns to Kirby again as the door shuts softly in the background. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and ask if this was your idea.”

He smiles, soft and impish. “I’ll never tell.”

Duck’s about to question him further, but then the bell above the door to the Cryptonomica chimes once more.

And in walks Minerva.

Well, it isn’t just Minerva; she’s flanked by Mama and Barclay and the rest of Amnesty Lodge’s residents, and she looks a bit out of place, but god, Duck has never been so happy and terrified to see her in all his life.

Her eyes meet Duck’s, and time seems to crawl to a halt. Still, the world moves on without them, Mama and Barclay and Jake and Moira moving to Kirby with flowers and condolences. Duck opens his mouth, but no sound comes out; not for a long while. “I—” he manages to choke out, but the words quickly die in his throat.

Because there’s Jake, running over and giving him a hearty slap on the back. “Hey, Duck! What’s up, man? I haven’t seen you in… what, months?” His jovial demeanor seems out of place today, but Duck knows Jake, and he can see puffy, red marks lining the corners of his eyes. “Where ya been?”

“Oh, you know…,” no he doesn’t, that’s why he’s asking, Duck thinks, “...around?” It’s not _ untrue. _

Jake’s smile falls, and for a second he looks tired, as if he’s disappointed to see his one chance of distraction fall through. But then he notices Minerva, still standing by the door, looking unsure of what to do with herself. Duck’s eyes unwisely follow his, and when he looks back to Jake, there’s recognition in the boy’s eyes.

“I getcha,” he says, smiling slightly once more. He shoves his hands behind his back, like he’s hiding something from him, trailing closer to the others. “Well, it was nice to see ya!” There’s another glance towards Minerva. “Bye!” He waves briefly before making his grand escape, quickly blending in with his housemates.

And then it’s just the two of them. No matter Kirby or Mama or Jake—they’re out of sight, out of mind. Minerva’s eyes, unfocused and piercing blue, call him in closer.

“...Long time no see,” Duck says. It’s been months since they last talked, and a day longer since they saw each other in person at all. Still, he knew he couldn’t avoid her forever. Fate, as always, didn’t end after his destiny.

Minerva locks eyes with the floor. “Indeed.” There’s a pregnant pause, a moment of palpable tension, before she speaks again. “Did you wish to speak to me, Duck Newton?”

Of course. He’d approached her, after all, his feet bringing him closer without him even noticing. “...Yeah. I guess I did.” There’s no ‘I guess’ about it. He’s been _ needing _to talk to her all this time—it just took him this long to accept it. He glances behind him, at the flurry of emotions and flowers near the front desk. “You wanna get out of here? I don’t think the rest of them would mind, considering…”

“I do wish to pay my respects,” she cuts in. “Although, I suppose…,” she reaches into her pocket (she’s wearing a _ bomber jacket, _dear god), and drops a small trinket into Duck’s palm, “it would be better kept with you rather than staying here.”

Her touch feels like fire on his skin, distracting all his senses, and so it takes him a while to process what she’s handed him: a small, metal replica of the Cryptonomica logo. They don’t sell these in the gift shop, last he checked. Which could only mean… “Did you make this yourself?” he asks, a bit taken aback.

She nods, her voice dropping down quieter than Duck’s ever heard it. “It is… customary on Miralaviniax. When one passes, you handcraft a metallic piece as such. Most commonly it is modeled after something you associate closely with them.”

“Well… damn. This is really good, Minerva.”

She clasps her hands together. “I have much experience.”

Right. She probably had hundreds of these sitting around back on her homeplanet. What else would she have been doing, other than contacting her and Leo? Duck regards it for a moment longer before closing his hand around it. “And you want me to keep it?” he asks, just to be sure.

This time, her nodding is much more exuberant—_ there’s _ good old Minerva. “That is also traditional!” Is it just him, or is she… excited to share her culture with him? Or maybe it’s just been so long since they’ve spoken that she’s just happy to talk to him at all. “You are meant to gift it to one who was close to the deceased party. Originally, I had planned for Kirby Strand to receive it,” she motions to Kirby, who’s busy leading the others towards the back door, “...but I believe you are just as worthy.”

That’s… a lot to take in. But he pockets it, giving Minerva a tight-lipped smile. “That really means a lot.” It’s hard to say how much.

She smiles back, and although something in her eyes is still hesitant, he can tell it’s genuine. “...Yes. Well. Will we be, as you say, ‘getting out of here’?”


End file.
